


Magical

by ohmarqueliot



Series: Sex Magic [2]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Sex Magic, phantom blowjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 03:44:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15743568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmarqueliot/pseuds/ohmarqueliot
Summary: Eliot learns a new spell, and is eager to share it with Quentin.





	Magical

Frowning, Quentin looked dubiously at the apple that Josh was offering him. The piece of fruit looked innocent enough, but the combination of excitement Josh was buzzing with and the fact that he wouldn’t tell him exactly what was so special about the apple was making him wary. “Does it taste like not an apple?” he asked again.

Josh sighed, leaning back into the couch and tossing the apple to him. Quentin reached for it out of reflex and although his fingers hit it awkwardly and he fumbled it, he managed to grab it before it fell to the ground. “Just try the apple.”

Holding up the apple, he sniffed it and detected nothing but sweetness. Still, he hesitated. “Does it make you high?” he tried.

“Just eat the goddamned apple,” Penny groaned.

Quentin looked across to where he stood by the window. Not looking outside, not doing anything really, but leaning against the wall and half-watching their conversation. His suspicious spiked immediately, but he caught his accusation before it could leave his lips and turned back to face forward again.

Raising the apple once more, he brought it to his mouth, parted his lips and, before he could sink his teeth into it, glanced sideways at Penny. The glint of mirth in his eyes was as obvious as it was expected, and Quentin threw the fruit at him, rolling his eyes. “You two make a terrible team,” he told them, leaning back against the couch and crossing his arms over his stomach. “What does it do?” he asked Josh again.

Finally, Josh grinned, catching the apple as Penny tossed it back to him. “I honestly made it by mistake. I was trying to make them taste like whatever the person eating it wanted it to taste like. But it didn’t go as planned, and Penny suggested we have some fun with it.”

“Hilarious,” Quentin deadpanned. “What is it? Dirt? Shit?”

“Vomit,” Penny said gleefully.

The thought of putting something that tasted like vomit in his mouth made him actually want to be sick. “Fuck, you guys.” Screwing up his face, he grabbed the cushion out from behind him and threw it at Josh. “That’s fucking disgusting.” Penny snorted, and Quentin glared at him. He trusted that Josh was doing a prank, but he had more than an inkling that Penny was taking far more enjoyment from this than he should be.

The door to the cottage burst open so forcefully that Quentin jumped a little. Twisting in his chair, he felt his frustration settle automatically when Eliot strode through the room. “They’re picking on me,” he grumbled when Eliot neared them.

He didn’t pause or slow his pace, only waved his hand in the others’ general direction. “I’ll put on my angry voice later,” he said distractedly, sparing barely a glance at Josh and Penny. Finally coming to a stop in front of him, he grabbed his hand and tugged. Quentin let himself be pulled to his feet, and hadn’t even found his footing yet before he was being dragged forcibly towards the stairs. “Sorry boys, I need to borrow him.”

The combination of Eliot’s sing-song voice, his warm hand tight on his, and the excited look he threw back at him when he started pulling him up the stairs gave Quentin a thrill and made him forget completely about his earlier irritation. “What’s…” Something couldn’t be wrong, not with the way Eliot was acting. “What’s going on?” he asked instead.

“Just come on.”

Like he had a choice. Grinning, Quentin followed him willingly into his bedroom. Letting go of his hand for a moment, Eliot locked the door and then turned to face him. Finally getting a good look at his face, Quentin felt himself caught up in his obvious excitement. “Eliot,” he began, laughing.

Eliot held up a hand to silence him. “I learned a new spell. I haven’t tried it yet. Take off your clothes.”

Each sentence sounded so matter-of-fact that it took Quentin a moment to react. “Is the spell supposed to make me take my clothes off?” he asked, not really getting it.

“No, you beautiful fool, take off your clothes so we can do the spell.”

“Um… okay.” His experience with naked magic had been mixed so far, but he trusted Eliot. Well, he trusted him to not do something that made him feel like an idiot. Grabbing the hem of his t-shirt, he tugged it over his head, and when it cleared his head Eliot was standing much closer. He didn’t have a chance to pull his hands free before Eliot’s settled on his bare skin, slipping up his sides and then down to his lower back, then back to his front to roam over his stomach and up to his chest. He finally freed his hands in time to bury them in Eliot’s hair when he closed the rest of the distance between them, kissing him firmly and Quentin finally figured out where this was going.  “Oh,” he whispered breathlessly against Eliot’s lips when he eventually broke for air. “Oh, okay. Okay.”

He didn’t need any further encouragement. Leaning upwards, Quentin kissed Eliot again, pushing his lips open with his own and thrilling when Eliot moaned into his mouth. Warm hands gripped his waist and pulled their bodies closer, and he could feel Eliot’s hardness pressing against his hip. Either he was really into the kiss, or else whatever he had planned had him really riled up. Quentin wasn’t complaining either way.

Eliot’s hand’s moved to his belt buckle, and he belatedly remembered his instruction to strip. Seeing that Eliot had his belt under control, he tugged at his tie, loosening it a little. “What about your clothes?”

“They can come off too,” Eliot said, turning his head to trail his tongue along his jaw and then making Quentin jump when he sucked on the skin just below his ear. When he finally remembered how to use his fingers he unwrapped them from where they’d closed around Eliot’s tie and pulled it off. By the time he was stepping out of his pants he’d managed to remove Eliot’s vest and unbuttoned half of his shirt, and the two of them made quick work of his pants.

Once they were both naked, Quentin let himself be pushed back onto the bed, wriggling up until his head was on the pillow as Eliot crawled on top of him. Lifting his hips, Quentin sighed at the feeling of Eliot’s body against his own, his cock rubbing against his, and the way Eliot’s eyes became unfocused at the sensation. Parting his legs so that Eliot could settle between them better, he wrapped his arm around his back to hold them together, his other hand cupping Eliot’s cheek and bringing his head down so he could kiss him.

Eliot’s mouth moved against his slowly, tenderly, and despite the fire that was starting to run through his veins, it felt nice to just enjoy this closeness. Quentin turned his lips to Eliot’s neck, planting a trail of opened mouth kisses down the skin to his shoulder. “Are you trying to say that we’re magical together?” Quentin said with an awkward laugh, well aware that it was cheesy but unsure whether pointing it out made him the cheesy one.

“That goes without saying.” He protested when Eliot pulled back, but he only slid half off him to reach into the top draw of his bedside table. Their legs were still tangled together, their hips pressed together, and Quentin rocked up into him impatiently, biting his lip against his satisfied grin when Eliot muttered a curse. “Fuck, Q,” he said, pushing off the bed to kneel above him, and he saw the lube Eliot had been searching for in his hand.

Squeezing some onto his fingers, he dropped the tube onto the bed beside them and settled between Quentin’s open legs. His eyes slid closed when a hand wrapped around his cock, and another hand reached lower, fingers dancing gently over his ass. He held his breath in anticipation when a finger pressed lightly against his opening. “The point is to relax, remember,” Eliot said quietly.

“I know, I just –“ Quentin gasped when, simultaneously, a finger slipped slowly inside of him as the other hand started to stroke his cock. “I just really – I want –“

“Uhuh,” Eliot said.

Quentin opened his eyes to glare at the smugness in his voice. The cocky way that Eliot raised his eyebrows at him only made him run hotter, and when a second finger pressed into him he pressed down against it. “Fuck,” he groaned when he felt his fingers moving inside him, stretching him.

“That’s the plan,” Eliot quipped, and god, Quentin didn’t want to wait any longer than he had to. Pushing himself up slightly, he reached for the lube and squirted a generous helping onto his hand. Tossing the tube aside, he grabbed the back of Eliot’s neck with his free hand and pulled him down, kissing him needily and swallowing Eliot’s gasp when he wrapped his lube-covered fingers around his cock. He bucked into his hand a few times which was gratifying, sure, but still not what Quentin wanted.

Eliot’s mind was on the same track, thankfully, because he moved both of his hands to Quentin’s thighs, pressingly them slightly further back and then he was slowly, slowly, pushing himself inside him. Quentin twisted his hands in the blanket beneath him, his breath getting caught in his chest as he filled him up. The way Eliot’s eyes slid shut, his lips parting, his brow furrowing as he started to move, the way his fingers flexed tightly against his thighs, felt almost as good as the way his cock moved in him. “I could watch you do that forever,” he gasped.

Eliot’s eyes snapped open, staring down at him half-lidded for a moment, before he surged forward, kissing him hungrily. Quentin grabbed onto his shoulders, fingers digging in desperately as Eliot started to really thrust into him. Without pulling back from Eliot’s mouth, Quentin moaned loudly, then gasped when Eliot’s teeth sunk gently into his lower lip, tugging at it before smoothing his tongue over it. Starting to feel like he could jump out of his skin, he twisted his fingers in the hair at the back of Eliot’s head and held him close, kissing him deeply, his tongue rolling over his before he sucked his own lip between his in payback, making Eliot’s hips stutter.

“Wait, wait,” Eliot panted suddenly, pulling out and Quentin whined at the abrupt emptiness. “Here.” Pulling on his arms until he sat up, he adjusted him until he was on his hands and knees and then settled behind him. Warm hands roamed over his ass, spreading his cheeks, before slipping up over his hips. Eliot’s cock pressed against him but didn’t push in, and Quentin pushed back against him needily.

“Please. El –” His words dissolved into a moan when Eliot thrust into him in one smooth movement. He pulled most of the way out, and then Quentin was ready when he pushed forward again, pressing his hips back to meet him and earning a groan from behind him. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock.

“No,” Eliot said thickly, tugging his hand away and then pulling him upright. Grabbing his other hand as well, he brought one arm around his waist, while the other wrapped tightly around his chest. Between his arms around him, his fingers tightly twisted with his, his chest pressed firmly against his back and his cock still thrusting inside of him, Quentin felt full and surrounded and really, really turned on. “Hold onto me,” Eliot murmured in his ear, squeezing his hands. He whispered something, too quiet for him to make out words, and then closed his mouth over his shoulder.

Oh yeah, the spell. “What –“ Warmth enveloped his cock and he cried out, his hips jerking forward automatically. The warmth shifted, the edge of it tightening around him and sinking deeper, and _fuck_ , was that _lips?_ “Eliot?” he whimpered uncertainly.

“I told you,” Eliot said, his voice breathless and triumphant. “I learned a new spell.” Quentin gasped when he felt what was unmistakably suction. “Do you like it?”

The invisible mouth stopped sucking him and slowly pulled back, and he felt the press of a tongue against the underside of his cock. “I… I…”

Eliot stilled behind him, his hands squeezing reassuringly. “Quentin,” he said, his voice suddenly serious. “If you don’t like it I’ll –“

“Don’t you dare stop,” Quentin demanded, forcing his thoughts into something coherent long enough to make them known. Rocking his hips back to encourage Eliot to keep moving, he reached back to cup the back of Eliot’s head, pulling his lips back down against his neck and hoping he’d get the idea. A moment later the touch was back, tentative and light this time, soft phantom lips playing around his head and he moaned, long and low. “Fucking hell, Eliot.”

“Hmm.”

Eliot’s tongue trailed up his neck, then his lips, then his teeth. Quentin cursed when his teeth tugged at his earlobe at the same time that the invisible mouth started to sink further down on his cock. “Is that… That’s _your_ mouth,” he gasped, caught between wanting to lean back into Eliot and forward into the mouth wrapped around him.

“Who else’s?” Eliot picked up his pace, holding his hips still so he could thrust faster and deeper, just as the head of Quentin’s cock hit the back of an invisible throat. A moment later he felt the pressure change, throat muscles swallowing around him, tightening around him and _fucking hell_ , this was more than he could take.

“El,” he gasped, but he only groaned in response, his forehead now pressing against his shoulder and his movements starting to become erratic. The mouth swallowed around him again in time with Eliot’s thrusts and that pushed him over the edge, his hips bucking forward as he came, his body trembling with the strength of it. A few moments later Eliot stilled behind him, his cock pulsing inside of him, and then the two of them collapsed sideways onto the bed.

Quentin lay on his side, breathing heavily, every inch of his skin tingling. When Eliot’s hand settled on his waist he jumped slightly, then rolled over to face him. Eliot looked as sweaty and worn as he felt, his curly hair falling across his forehead and his eyes alight. “Please tell me… that was the most incredible… thing you’ve ever done,” he begged between breaths.

Huffing a laugh, Quentin reached up and pushed Eliot’s hair back, smiling when he turned his head into his palm. Being with Eliot was always beyond his expectations – it was hot and passionate, yes, but the tender moments were just as frequent, and it meant a lot to Quentin that he could be free with his affection. “You could have given me some warning,” he said without any heat.

Eliot smirked. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Rolling his eyes at his unapologetic nature, Quentin shuffled closer into Eliot’s arms, resting his head on his upper arm and pressing his face into his chest. Eliot’s hands traced patterns up and down his back, and it was impossible to think of moving from his embrace. Still, the stickiness became too distracting to ignore. “Come shower?” he said, his lips forming the words against the skin of Eliot’s chest.

Humming a wordless agreeable sound, Eliot gave him a squeeze before letting him go. Sitting up, he watched as Eliot’s hands formed a spell that would clean their mess from the sheets. He was glad he didn’t suggest the same thing for themselves – despite how wonderful magic was, there was nothing like the sensation of wet skin against wet skin, even if the two of them were too spent for it to be anything sexual.

Getting to his feet, he walked around the bed and met Eliot halfway. Eliot cupped his cheek for a moment, then pressed two fingers under his chin to angle his head up, and Quentin was smiling when he kissed him. When Eliot pulled back, there was still a hint of something in his eye that was equal parts mischief and anticipation. “And later,” he said, and then paused, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

Quentin looked up at him knowingly. “You want to teach me the spell so I can use it on you, don’t you?”

Eliot nodded quickly. “So much, yes.”


End file.
